


The General

by RK Ten Hundred (Shokubenii)



Series: RK1100 Bits and Bytes [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fantasy AU, M/M, general nines, healer markus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 20:47:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17567699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shokubenii/pseuds/RK%20Ten%20Hundred
Summary: Equal fervor and strong opinions don't always meld well together.





	The General

The wind moved nothing but the cape attached to his armor, hardly nudging the slicked back hair and beating silently against the hard iron mail that covered his entire body.    
  
Conrad never wore a helmet. He preferred his enemies to see his face before he struck them down.   
  
The general was an impose force to be reckoned with: a giant of a man with hands big as the broad side of an axe, and the strength of one hundred soldiers.    
  
He staked his axe into the desert earth and looked off into the wilderness, knowing that just beyond the canyons laid the base of their enemies.

"Your wounds," came the soft voice from behind.   
  
"No need to tend to them," the general rumbled, flexing his now freed arm. "They merely left my muscles sore. Hardly any bruising."   
  
"At the very least, shed your armor, Sir," the voice insisted. "Are we not camping here for the night?"   
  
"Not when there is a sniper at the mouth of the canyon over yonder," Conrad stated evenly. He turned heel and stalked past a medic, leaving his axe planted and barking orders to the archers.   
  
"We have wounded men." Confusion lit the incessant babbling. "Are you sure this is wise, General?"

Conrad twisted to look behind him--and down.   
  
The medic. For a brief moment he was stalled not by the novelty of mismatched eyes--one green and the other blue--but by the intensity that was unevenly yoked with a tone so humble.    
  
"You must be new to the squadron," Conrad mused aloud, frowning.   
  
"Yes sir, I--."   
  
"I never make a decision that does not assure the return of the vast majority of my men," he cut the medic off. "Do well to remember this, Healer."   
  
The shorter man squared his shoulders and craned his neck backward. "I do not think--."   
  
"You," Conrad dismissed, "are thinking about the wrong things."   
  
The general made his way back toward the rooted weapon, able-bodied archers obediently assembled. Conrad's eyes shimmered like the quartz of the pyramids in the dying daylight as he caught the medic's gaze.   
  
"You are here to heal my men. Not lead them."   
  
The general took up his weapon and left without a word, soldiers following in a cacophonous chorus of jostling armor.    
  
The heat of the healer's glare burned his back all the way to the battlefield.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just because I love these two as a pair and honestly, there isn't enough.


End file.
